starboard the little spitfire jib was held aback. The wind caught it and suddenly it exerted its tremendous leverage at the extremity of the bowsprit. The cutter spun on her heel, the mainsail filled, then the staysail was hauled over. Finally the weather jib sheet was started and the canvas cracked like a gun before it was tamed by the lee sheet. The yacht sped away to the north west and Drinkwater breathed a sigh of relief.
There was no opportunity to study the chart in the prevailing conditions. The deck was continually sluiced by seas coming aboard so that the two boats on chocks amidships appeared to be afloat of their own accord.
After a further hour of this the sails suddenly slatted. At once several men perceived the veering of the wind.
'Keep her full and bye,' roared Drinkwater to the helmsmen, to which a slightly reproachful voice answered, 'Aye, aye, but that's north, sir.'
Drinkwater checked himself reflecting that this was no king's ship and the helmsman's reply was not insubordinate but informative.
North.
He shook his head to clear away fatigue and too much of Calvert's port. With leeway and a roaring flood tide to set them east he might be setting on to the Wolf Rock! A knot of panic gripped his stomach until he mastered it with the thought that the total area of the rock was less than that of the cutter's deck. Surely the odds were impossibly against them striking that isolated spot?
A figure loomed up beside him. It was Poulter.
'Heard her luff, cully. You'll be concerned about the Wolf.' It was not a question but a statement simply made. Drinkwater felt the load lifted from his shoulders. His brain cleared and he was able to think.
'D'ye wish me to put about again Captain Poulter, with the shift of wind she'll hold a more westerly course, sir…?'
Poulter was glancing at the dimly lit compass. Drinkwater thought he caught a glimpse of a smile in the wet darkness.
'That will do very well, Mr Drinkwater. See to it if ye please.'
'Aye, aye, sir…'
The Trinity Yacht arrived off Hugh Town later that day and remained there for several days. Calvert and Poulter had themselves pulled across to St Agnes and the crew discharged several cauldrons of coal into their boats to feed the light's chauffer-fires.
Ten days after leaving Plymouth Calvert pronounced himself satisfied with the lighthouse and on coming aboard from a final visit Drinkwater overheard him talking to Poulter.
'Well Jonathan, we'll make passage tomorrow at first light observing the cresset again tonight. I'll post to London from Falmouth and you may then proceed to the east'ard.' Calvert's words fell dully on Drinkwater's ears until he mentioned Falmouth.
Falmouth meant Elizabeth.
On arrival at Falmouth it was discovered that the yacht's second mate had recovered sufficiently to rejoin the ship. Drinkwater was therefore discharged by Poulter with a letter explaining his absence and a certificate as to his proficiency. Greatly delighted with his luck he was even more astonished when Calvert sent for him and presented him with four guineas for his services and another certificate testifying that as an Elder Brother of the Trinity House he had examined Mr Drinkwater and found him to be competent in navigation and seamanship. The document he presented to Drinkwater certified that he had passed the examination for master's mate.
'There, Mr Drinkwater. Under the latest regulations you are now permitted to board prizes as prize-master in your own right. Good luck to ye.'
Stammering his delighted surprise Drinkwater shook hands with Calvert and was pulled ashore with the Elder Brother. Having seen Calvert off in the post chaise Drinkwater turned his steps to the vicarage.
Autumn was in the air but he strode along without a care in the world, his heart thumping at the prospect of seeing Elizabeth again.
He swung back the gate. At the door he hesitated, his hand actually in the act of drawing back the knocker. Changing his mind he moved to a side window. It was the parson's study. Peering in he saw the bald dome of the old man's head, the white locks from the sides and nape of his head falling sideways in the relaxation of sleep.
Drinkwater crept round to the rear of the house. He found Elizabeth in the garden. She was unaware of his presence and for a moment he stood watching her.
She was picking fruit from a tree whose gnarled boughs were bent under a load of russet apples. As she stretched out to pluck the fruit her face was in profile. The lower lip was caught in her teeth in an expression he recognised as one of concentration. There was something sweetly pastoral in the scene to one whose eyes had become accustomed to the monotony of the sea.
He coughed and she started, losing hold of her apron. A cascade of apples ran out on to the grass. 'Oh!… Nathaniel!'
He laughed, running over to help pick them up. 'I'm sorry to have startled you.'
She smiled at him. Kneeling, their faces were very close. He felt her breath on his cheek and was about to throw caution to the winds when she stood, brushing a wisp of hair behind her neck.
'I am glad that you have come. How long can you stay?'
Drinkwater had not given the matter much thought. He shrugged.
'How long would you have me stay…?' he smilingly asked.
It was her turn to shrug. She laughed, refusing to be drawn, but he could tell she was pleased.
'I ought to return to Plymouth tomorrow… well I ought to return today but…' he shrugged again, 'well let us say I am recuperating.'
'The New York packet is due and there'll be a post leaving soon, stay till then?'
'Well, er, I, er…'
'Father will be delighted, please stay…'
She uttered the last words pleadingly, so that Nathaniel had little choice and less inclination to choose. He looked into her brown eyes. They waited for his reply anxiously…
'Would you wish it that I stayed?'
She smiled. She had given away too much already. She gathered the last of the apples and moved towards the house.
'Do you like apple pie, Nathaniel?' she called over her shoulder.
The day passed delightfully.
As his daughter had said the old parson was delighted to entertain the midshipman. He took great pride in showing Drinkwater his library and it was clear that the collection of books constituted practically the whole of Bower's possessions, since the artefacts of the house were the property of the absent clergyman. Closer acquaintance with Isaac Bower revealed him to be a man of considerable learning who had not only brought his daughter up but educated her himself. She was, he told Nathaniel with an air of confidentiality, the equal to most men and the superior of many in her knowledge of mathematics, astronomy, Greek and Latin, while her literary tastes encompassed those French authors who did not abjure the existence of God. Had there been any doubts about Elizabeth's talents in other directions these were swiftly dispelled at dinner when a roasted chicken was followed by an apple pie of generous proportions.
After dinner Drinkwater found himself alone in a darkening room with a bottle of port that Bower had unearthed in his host's cellar. He had drunk two glasses when the old man came into the room. He threw some logs on to the fire and poured himself a glass.
'I, er, had a little news the other day… after you had left. My Lord Bishop of Winchester had appointed me to a parish near Portsmouth. It is a poor parish, I believe, but…' the old man shrugged resignedly, '… that is of no matter. At least,' he continued on a brighter note, '… it will bring us nearer you brave naval fellows and, I trust,' he looked pointedly at Nathaniel, 'I trust you will continue to visit us there.'
Warmed by the wine Nathaniel replied enthusiastically. 'I shall be delighted, sir, absolutely delighted… After my last visit I found the prospect of reacquainting myself with you and Eliz… Miss Bower most comforting.'
Bower asked him something of his own circumstances and he told the parson of his widowed mother. Elizabeth joined them for a while before she announced she was retiring and the conversation was relaxed and
